


Time To Lose Control

by semi_automatic, twenty_one_plants



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Autism Spectrum, Bands, Depression, Gay, Hearing Voices, Jenna is the therapist, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Psychosis, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Relapsing, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Synesthesia, Therapy, Tyler is a smol autistic bab, we're sorry for any pain this may cause
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semi_automatic/pseuds/semi_automatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twenty_one_plants/pseuds/twenty_one_plants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler and Josh love each other very much, even if they're a little dysfunctional.</p><p>Tyler sees and feels things in colors and gets overwhelmed easily and is scared of everyone but Josh and Jenna. He can't be left alone and there's a voice in his head trying to kill him. He probably couldn't survive if it wasn't for Josh, and he dropped out of high school halfway through tenth grade. He says Josh sounds like blueberries and has a smile like an F major chord, when he can really make Josh smile.</p><p>Josh, too, sees and feels things, emotions and all thoughts in vibrant colors that sometimes flow incorrectly. Just remember, a summary has to be symmetrical, it has to be perfect. That's what Josh would think as he timed his entire schedule, losing control for another time. With boars and bears attacking, he only wishes to reach for Tyler's hand to save him, but always falls short as yet another lily is plucked from his insides. One step, two step. One step, two step. Tyler is the only thing that gives him back lilies; that makes him feel symmetrical.</p><p>But can they survive through the flames that lap at their fingertips?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tyler was curled up in his recliner when the feeling hit him. That blue-grey, that feeling you get when you've been snowed in for three days. He quickly began to get scared. He knew he couldn't trust himself when he was like this. He couldn't be alone. He checked the time. Almost three in the morning. He squeezed the phone as he thought. Josh shouldn't be up now. He didn't want to disturb Josh. 

He got up, walking into the bathroom. Splashed cold water on his face. Paced. Hummed. Anything to distract himself. He pulled out his phone.

'Hey, Josh?'

He waited about two minutes, pacing and scratching his head. He pulled his phone back out.

'Josh, please answer me.'

just feel horrible, a-and I'm not sure what to do... Everything's just gone all blue-grey and static and I'm just really scared of what I might do and I really need someone here with me and you're the only person I know, and... F*ck, I'm sorry, Josh." He hung up.

His head was reeling now. He was shaking terribly. He wasn't thinking straight and he found a belt. He tied it around the shower curtain bar, making a sort of make shift noose. He didn't want to do this. But he was. 

He curled up and cried. He was too scared to do it, but something was pushing him into it.

 

A figment of a feeling as Josh ignores the phone ringing from a muffled space in his bed. Sitting on his windowsill.

Fighting the feelings and fighting the urges. Tyler had color words for this, he wasn't sure of it.

A razor in one hand and a fist clenched in the other. It hurts.

Then he hears the voice call.

Josh throws the razor down, everything moving at once and rushing too fast as he jumps out of his window (thankfully, first story only) and looks around in the night. A quick dash to Tyler's window, banging, slamming, tears.

What if Tyler...?

Josh blinks back the ugly tears, arms shoving at the window to Tyler's room, finally yanking up and the cuts on his arms crying out and reopening.

Quick feet into the room, a survey of the area then the sound of soft sobs.

Josh calls out hesitantly, hoping to God that he would get a response that wasn't the sound of noose rope sickeningly creaking.

"T-Tyler? Tyler? Where are you? I'm h-here...!"

Tyler jumps at the sudden sound of Josh in his house, breaking the silence like fat ink blots on white paper. His eyes dart to the bathroom door. Shut and locked up tight. It makes him feel like he is downing. He can't get up to open it. His body will not work.

"In here," he calls, but he almost can't get the words out. They sound muted. He is unsure if Josh can even hear him. He's unsure if he'll last long enough to say it again.

His hands are trembling. His entire form is trembling, but his eyes are on his hands. Maybe the floor is shaking, not him. Maybe the world is falling apart. He feels that way.

Something in him pushes him towards the noose. He sobs, pushing himself against the wall. He doesn't want to. He hides his face. If his voice would work he would scream at the voice in his head- I don't want to. He covers his face with his hands. They're red. They want to hurt him. His head is loud with static and I single high pitched sound. The world is falling apart. He doesn't want to.

A soft sound, a deep feeling. Fear. Josh runs to the bathroom door, nearly falling into the door, listening carefully for the sound of Tyler.

Soft noises. Josh's hands go to the knob, twisting, not caring about the red carefully oozing down his arms.

Locked.

"Open the door. Open it. Tyler, open the fucking door!"

Dread, a cracked voice. Fear, oh, God, the fear.

"OPEN THE DOOR, TYLER!" Josh's voice hushed to a sob now, pounding on the door and smearing ugly blood on the door. 

"Please, please, T-Tyler, baby boy, please..." He sinks against the door, eyes wide with terror.

Lack of control. Josh wished he had his own razor that he hadn't left in his room, just to regain control somehow. 

A lack of control; lack of organization, fear.

Josh wants to have control as he starts slamming his shoulder into the bathroom door.

"......." Josh snaps. If he loses Tyler, he loses himself. Acceptance of his own death is necessary, he didn't care about himself, but Tyler needs to survive.

Josh is yelling. The sound hurts Tyler's ears and he covers them with his hands. His eyes are squeezed shut. Maybe if he squeezes his eyes hard enough, presses his hands against his ears until the sound stops, he will wake up. This all has to be a dream. He doesn't feel real.

Josh slams against the door and Tyler screams. He puts his head between his knees and covers his head with his arms. He feels like a bomb is going off. Like black water pushing him down. He is drowning. What would Josh call this?

Fear.

No, this is worse. It does not taste like fear.

Panic.

No no, this is too loud to only be panic. His hands pull at his hair.

Terror.

Josh sobs at this point, shoulder bruised over and bone nearly scratching through his muscle. God, did it hurt.

But, then again, everything else did, too.

"Tyler... Tyler, please.. Answer... Please open the door.." His voice is weak and hoarse, nearly given up on himself rather than Tyler.

He sinks to the ground, trembling and sliding his fingers under the crack in the crack in bottom of the door.

Tyler sees this. 

Josh frowns, "I'm real, I'm alive, please, we c-can do this... T-Tyler, I love you, please..." Fear is etched into his voice.

The figment of the feeling turns into a million of love and fear, fear for Tyler and love for Tyler.

Tears stain few door as he sobs into the cold wood. "Tyler, please.."

Silence now. Josh stares dazedly at his hand that wasn't under the door. 

A glassy gaze on bloody hands. He was bleeding a lot.

Control.

There is silence. Tyler looks up. The static has disolved into a high pitched noise, cutting through everything. It is all white. Cold. He's trembling. He feels like he's going to be sick.

Something draws his eyes to the door. Josh's fingers under the crack. They are red. He blinks. The red is real. He doesn't understand.

He tries to get up to unlock the door but he falls to his knees. He can't stand up. He's weak. When did he last sleep? What was the last meal he had? 

Blurred.

He crawled over to unlock the door. Shaking fingers sliding off the cool fake-gold door nob. That was a real color. It contrasted brightly with the white and purple (real colors) that the bathroom was. It bothered Tyler. The door was opening.

Josh stumbles back from the door, eyes wide with the first amount of hope he's felt for months.

"Tyler..." He yanks open the door, trembling and looking at the taller boy with death in his eyes.

Josh swears he sees Tyler's eyes glowing brightly in the bathroom light.

It's fear. Wrap him in white and hide the blood.

Josh loses eye contact with Tyler, wrapping his arms—bloody, leaky, mean arms—around Tyler shakily.

"I was so scared, I was so scared...."

A feeling of control bubbles up. He controlled the situation so Tyler wouldn't die.

Would Tyler be able to control Josh when it was his own time to lose control?

Josh doesn't mind this now, flesh growing cold as he sees the makeshift noose around the rod.

Josh nearly collapses, mind growing fuzzy from everything.

Oh well. Did his life even matter? Tyler's all that matters...

Josh's sore arms tighten around Tyler.

Tyler's all that matters.

Tyler wants to fade into Josh's arms. He's crying harder now, and he's whispering and yelling and screaming that he's sorry. He feels like lonely cars driving at two am. Headlights on a deserted road.

It is another moment before he realizes the red. Red everywhere. Real red. His heart almost stops as he realizes it's all being dyed by the ink from Josh's skin. He's clambering. He should keep his house more organized. Where the * are the bandages?

At the back. Tyler grabs onto them to get his fingers to stop shaking. He hates them. They're like the sound of saran wrap. His mom makes him keep them for emergencies. Maybe now he should tell her he's gateful. 

He says nothing as he tries to wrap up Josh's arms, cuts gaping like angry smiles. Tyler bites his tongue. Don't listen.

Josh tugs his arms away, escaping the bandages and watching the life slowly pour from the many cuts.

It hurts, but life is numb.

It's fear. It's flowers around his neck, he's feeling the same thing that Tyler does, synesthesia? He thinks it's called that.

He wishes he had string lights to choke himself away with, the fear in seeing the belt in the bathroom is too much to bear.

What sort of control does he have when he lets Tyler bandage himself up? Why does it matter?

The flowers wilt inside his chest.

Josh yanks his arms away roughly, the bandage material scratching roughly against the already smiling cuts.

"Let me bleed out." Josh mutters, then speaks louder.

"I want to."

The flowers are dead. 

His mind grows fuzzy..

"Stay awake, baby boy."

"Let me bleed out, Tyler..." Seeing Tyler nearly die was too much.

Everything is too much.

Tyler can't take this. It's too much for him to process all at once. He drops the bandages and before he realizes what he's doing he's slapped Josh across the face.

He almost apologizes.

The red tells him not to. It burns in his mind. 

"You're going to die. I won't let that happen," he says, staring at Josh with red-orange in his eyes. Determination. He has to help him.

There are hands at his neck. Tyler wants to scratch them away. Hands on his arms. He wants to claw at them. He clenches his hands into fists. 

"Hold still. Please."

He picks the bandages back up. He's going to help Josh.

Josh yelps at the hit, toppling backwards from a loss of balance.

Fear etched in his wide eyes. Possible memories clog his mind.

Tears flow freely, Josh tugging his arms back in a haste and frightful impulse.

The final blow of control had been dealt. He wished Tyler could of at least hit the other cheek.

Organization and symmetry was key.

That's why Josh's cuts were perfect little lines almost across his arteries in his arms.

Yes, he did know how to bleed out.

No, the present cuts weren't deep or close enough for him to actually do so.

"I'm not going to die, maybe faint..." He sits up, cheek flaring in pain.

Josh gives in to a lack of self control, allowing Tyler to grab the limp arms and do what he may. 

He doesn't care if Tyler was about to break his arm or make the cuts deeper, digging metal into the cuts and scraping away at his sanity.

Josh is, however, surprised when Tyler makes eye contact and bandages up the cuts that glared.

Tyler wraps the cuts carefully, tight enough but not so tight it would hurt Josh. Tyler remembered these bandages around his legs. Saran wrap. He shuddered. 

He finished and ran his fingers over the wraps, as though making sure they were okay. Not really. He just felt the need.

His eyes were wet again. There was cement in his throat. He'd nearly killed himself. Josh had been bleeding. Tyler couldn't even remember everything. Too much had happened at once.

Blur.

"I'm sorry."

Josh feels the tears sting in his eyes as he views the bandages hugging his arms. It hurts. Everything hurts.

Migraine. Nothing good.

"Don't apologize."

Josh doesn't speak after this, twitching when Tyler touched the flimsy material.

"Don't touch. Please." A silent apology as he noticed the streaks of red on Tyler's shirt.

Josh can hardly speak, but he rises uneasily, balance uncoordinated just as his control was.

A soft calmness in his chest as he steps past Tyler, slow, weak, zombified in a sense, grabbing the belt.

 

A joke. A disgusting joke.

Josh wishes it could wrap around his neck instead.

".........." Josh makes a move to wrap the belt around his neck, touching the cold, thick material to his neck before growling and yanking it off.

He awaits the sorrow to wash over, however it never comes.

"Why?" Nothing else.

"Tyler, why did you help me?"

Josh throws the belt into the toilet bowl angrily, flushing it even though there's now way it could.

"Tyler, I saw Blurryface when I saw your eyes."

Josh thinks this Blurryface character that Tyler told him about months ago was inside him, too, now.

Tyler hugs himself. He feels very small. He wants the night to end. The lights hurt his eyes. The cold hurts his skin. There's an emptiness. It feels like another night at the hospital. Might as well be.

Tyler cringes at the mention of Blurryface. He hates him. Hates everything he associates with him- red, black, dancing patterns that make Tyler's head hurt. He wants him out.

The pills used to make him go away.

He'd made Tyler flush the last of them weeks ago.

Wasn't like he let Tyler take them very often anyway. 

"Probably," Tyler says. He doesn't want to talk. He wants to cry. He wants Josh to tell him it's okay. But that would make him taste fake-orange. Lying.

He stares at the floor and his head swims with hazy purple. This is probably shame. He wants to ask and make sure. This is not the time. His nails dig into his sides.

Josh gently pulls the cold boy into his arms, carefully walking him into his bedroom, slow, soft, gentle.

Warm.

Josh sits Tyler down on the bed, fingertips ghosting along the small boy's skin, along his unbandaged arms.

"It's okay. I'm sorry... We'll be okay..."

Josh wasn't lying, he was trying to be serious about this.

"We should try to rest, baby boy. Do you think you can sleep if you're in my arms? Don't think about what just happened, okay?"

That's all that was on Josh's mind.

Fear. Terror. Control. The belt and the tears and the blood.

Faking okayness for Tyler.

Tyler is all that matters.

Tyler nods slowly. He can sleep in Josh's arms. He feels maroon there. Like being wrapped up in a blanket. The chili in a mug his mom used to make.

Safe.

He can't remember when he last slept. He makes himself think. Two nights ago. Wrong. Three. When he'd woken up from the same blue-black nightmare he always had. He was scared to go back to sleep.

Josh took the fear away.

Josh took away everything Tyler didn't like.

When static got in his head Josh was flowing water. When Tyler's hands were angry and red Josh's were calm and sky blue. When everything was shaking Josh was stable.

Tyler couldn't bear to be without him. He would die.

He pulls Josh closer. He needs him. Tyler has finally stopped trembling as sleep weighed down his bones, his waking state fluttering with each blink of his butterfly eyelids. 

Saftey.

Warm.

Closer.

It's subtle. 

A surrounding melt of sadness and dark fills Josh, somewhat soaking up the darkness Tyler leaks.

It definitely hurts.

It's a stutter of a motion, a feeling.

His heart swells with pain and love, need for Tyler.

Josh's arms tighten gently around Tyler, lips press to the cold boy's forehead and gently rest there.

Josh doesn't deserve someone like this.

"I love you." The softest whisper he could muster, just to escape the high tide of his mind, tied around his neck.

It feels like something is choking him; sleep is out of the picture.

He'll never sleep. It's been a week since he's gotten any.

Hiding feelings and health from Tyler.

He wasn't going to tell Tyler that he constantly cut himself.

He wouldn't tell him that he had severe OCD either. Or that he hadn't slept in a week or eaten for six days because of the voice swelling inside his throat, briefly yelling, 'You don't need food, Josh, do you really deserve it?'.

Ugly tears drip down his eyes as he shivers.

Thankful that Tyler could sleep. 

Thankful that he could end himself soon.

Wasn't there a bridge near Tyler's house?


	2. What Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs to tell Josh. Josh has to know. His shaking fingers fumble to find Josh's hand and he holds on for dear life.
> 
> "Did I ever tell you what happened to me?"
> 
> The question tastes fake purple. He knows he hasn't. But he doesn't know how else to start this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while. josh and i decided to give you more. here you go.

Tyler finally falls asleep. It was dark and dreamless for a while. He was too tired for dreaming.

He clung to Josh the whole time, his head on Josh's chest, his hands balled into fists around Josh's shirt. He could sense something was wrong, was blue-yellow, and he refused to let go of him.

It is nearly morning when dreams start. Not dreams. Nightmares. Tyler winces in his sleep. Twitching. He hides his face in Josh's chest. "Stop... Hurts... No..." he whined, curling up smaller.  _ Blue black. _

_ Fear. _

_ Get out of my head. _

Wakeful sleepless nights pass. A whimper, a soft tear.

Why can't he just sleep?

_ He'd make sure his arms cut up real good later, when he wasn't around Tyler. _

The Blurryface was stuck in his mind too.

Shuddering into an alert state, Josh notices Tyler upset.

Josh carefully shakes the boy, frowning weakly.

Emotion wasn't a living being inside him anymore, it was a dead crow waiting for its murder.

Josh ruffles his feathers and captures Tyler's lips into a kiss, hoping to kiss him awake.

Warmth fills his lungs.

He pulls away.

"Baby boy, wake up." Too exhausted to try harder.

_ No sleep. No nothing. _

Josh feels the urge to puke grow strong, lungs full of bile and that voice telling him  _ he deserves this pain. _

Tyler woke to Josh's C major lips on his, but for one second he didn't realize it was Josh and he pushed him away, scared. He hasn't opened his eyes yet. He blinks.

He lets out a shuddering gasp as he opens his eyes. He wipes at his eyes out of instinct and his fingers come away damp. 

"S-sorry," he whispers, his voice thin like sand between his fingers. He takes a stuttering breath. Calm down. 

_ Look at Josh. It's only Josh. He won't hurt you.  _

_ Calm down. _

_ But now the memories are in his blood and there are hands all over his body and he's scared. Can he not go one night without remembering? _

He's never told Josh.

Josh flinches when he gets pushed away.

A blabbering mess. "I'm so s-sorry, oh god I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Tyler, baby boy it's me, I'm sorry I kissed you..."

A gentle dust of red fills his cheeks as embarrassment washes through his chest.

It's painful. The red slap is still on his cheek.

He remembers previous hands that hit him. It breaks him to the core and he's silent.

Josh never told Tyler about anything. Getting beaten for being gay, for being himself, for being a nuisance of a son.

The slap was just one more razor dragged along his body, another fear and another reason to puke.

"I'm sorry, Tyler. I just... I'm sorry." A loss of words and fear in his throat.

Tyler hears the bruised purple-red apologies spill from Josh's mouth and he shakes his head. "Shh, it's okay Josh. It's okay." 

He hugs him close. He doesn't want him to feel bad. It isn't his fault.

_ It's Tyler's. _

**_It will always be Tyler's fault._ **

"It's okay, you just scared me. I just got scared. That's all. Don't apologise." He hates this. If he doesn't tell Josh he'll keep hurting him with those things. But if he tells Josh, will he only hurt him more? What if Josh starts to treat him even more delicately than he already does? But he should know.

_ Shouldn't he? _

_ Is not telling the same as lying? _

Josh trembles as he's held close.

It's an empty gesture, it has to be, isn't it? 

Fear and love wouldn't mix but it does. And oh, is it painful.

It's all his fault. "I deserved it."

Josh blurts this, a shaky, pure tone hiding in the words.

Vulnerability. He is oh so desperately afraid of what's inside and what Tyler thinks.

But... What did Tyler think of this?

"I deserve it." _The slaps. The cuts. The fear. The pain._

Josh knew he was broken. Why not be shattered? Thrown away already? His hand shakily moves to carefully cup Tyler's face, fingertips gingerly running along the boy's cheekbone.

"You never hit the other side. It's a-asymmetrical, please h-hit the other side."

Symmetry was all he had control of after what happened.

_ Josh's fear resided in losing control; the one thing he couldn't let happen. _

Tyler stares at Josh, a mix of an evil shade of orange and green. Is that disbelief or horror? Tyler can't think of it.

How could Josh think Tyler would hit him on purpose? It had been an accident when Tyler did it. He had been overwhelmed. He needed to do something with his hands. He needed Josh to come to his senses.

_ He had panicked. _

_ He hadn't meant to. _

Tyler could never hit Josh on purpose. He loved him too much. He didn't want to hurt him. That was the last thing he could ever wish for.

"I can't," he said. "It's not your fault. You didn't do it. It's my fault. I can't hit you. I can't." 

How could Josh think it was his fault? He wasn't there. He didn't do it. _**Tyler had let it happen all those times. It was his fault.**_

Josh sits bolt upright in the bed, shaking, breathing ground loud as he pants for air that just wouldn't enter his lungs.

The fear. The need for symmetry.

Everything feels wrong, everything needs to be a pattern, everything needs to be right and everything needs to be fixed.

"No, no, hit my other cheek so it's symmetrical, please, please, Tyler, you don't understand—....."

_ That's it. _

_ Tyler doesn't understand. _

Tyler doesn't know why everything in Josh's room is clean and tidy and perfectly symmetrical. After the loss of control earlier in his life, he needs to be in control of everything, everything needs to be perfect and even.

"Tyler...." Josh latches onto Tyler, grabbing Tyler's hand and making it connect with his opposite cheek. Josh sighs.

_ Snap out of it.  _

_ Snap out of it. _

Josh smiles fakely, calming down in a strangely quick amount of time. 

"Are you okay?" Josh whispers after a minute of silence. Or was it seconds? He didn't know.

Josh's outburst scares Tyler. He's acting strange, unpredictable. Tyler can't put anything to it. Almost like a flock of birds attacking or flying away out of order. Not quite.

Tyler hates it. 

He tries to pull his hand away. It doesn't work. He wants to scream at Josh to stop. Everything is loud. He can't take it.

By the time Josh calms down he’s trembling. His knees are pulled to his chest and he's scooted away from Josh out of instinct. His nails dig into his sides. 

**_Quit panicking._ **

**_Why are you acting like this, Tyler? There's nothing wrong now._ **

**_Don't do that_ **

His nails dig harder. 

"No."

Josh twitches, both cheeks throbbing in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Fear painted in his eyes and terror throughout his body.

"I need it to be clean and symmetrical. It has to be, don't you get it?" He pulls Tyler into his chest, trembling.

The cold flows through him as he slowly dies off. Figuratively, of course.

It's painful. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I did that..."

Josh jumps up, quickly making up the bed, fast, not disrupting Tyler, hopefully.

"Straighten out the sheets, straighten out so you d-don't get hit..." His voice is merely a shaky breath.

"Wh-at can I d-do to help you?".

Josh's sporadic movements make Tyler jumpy. He just wants Josh to calm down. His chest swells and an ocean crashes inside of him. He's curled up, crying. Grey. He's shut down. 

He barely understands Josh's words.

**_Listen, Tyler!_ **

**_People get mad when you won't listen._ **

_ I'm trying. _

The words catch in his throat for a second. "S-stop... Just sit d-down... And h-hold me. P-please just c-calm down."

Josh flinches, hands itching and shaking violently. He sits down and obeys.

His arms wrap around Tyler, gentle, loving as he could.

"I'm sorry. B-baby boy, I didn't mean... I didn't mean to make you cry..."

He kisses the tears away from Tyler's eyes, managing to somehow calm down alone.

But he wasn't alone. Tyler was silently helping, cooing, nursing him back to his form of normal.

"I love you, Tyler."

Tyler folds into Josh's arms. He feels safe again. He never feels that in his dreams. He feels blue-black. He feels like a bird without feathers. He feels like a butterfly pinned up in a box.

He just wants to replace the memories. Maybe then things would be easier. 

_ Can memories really be replaced?  _

It's his only hope.

He needs to tell Josh. Josh has to know. His shaking fingers fumble to find Josh's hand and he holds on for dear life.

"Did I ever tell you what happened to me?"

The question tastes fake purple. He knows he hasn't. But he doesn't know how else to start this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more soon ???


	3. Flowers Around Your Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Remember back in ninth grade... We had just become friends, and then I was in the hospital for a month and I never really told you why?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a brief warning for the mentions of rape/child abuse in this chapter.

Josh carefully clasps his fingers around Tyler's, stroking the shaking fingers and carefully cooing to the boy in his lap.

"N-...no, you... Didn't.." Josh says this warily, the following moments were bound to be unpredictable.

_ It hurt a lot, like flowers around your neck. _

Josh strokes the cold fingers in his hands, pretty piano fingers that he grew to love.

"I won't hurt you or hate you for whatever you want to tell me... G-go ahead, baby boy." Uneasy breaths are inside of Josh, but he needs to hear.

Tyler thinks back to high school. He hates thinking about high school. He has to force himself. Everything is blue-black and blurred. Until Josh came in. "Remember back in ninth grade... We had just become friends, and then I was in the hospital for a month and I never really told you why?"

He pauses but he isn't waiting for an answer. Whether he remembers or not is irrelevant.

_ There are hands all over him and he shuts his eyes, trying to remember to breathe. _

The next words are like rocks in his lungs and knives in his ribs. "My therapist before that... Who I'd had for eight years... H-He raped me. Repeatedly. Once a month, every session. Like clockwork."

_ The words hurt because saying them out loud means it's real. _

_ Tyler can't convince himself it's all a bad dream. _

The B flat is loud. There is metal in his mouth. He can feel it. He's blue-black just like then.

Josh feels as though he is about to puke. His hands tighten carefully around Tyler's hands.

"......" Josh wraps his arms slowly around Tyler's small body, pulling him into a tight and loving hold.

"Oh, god, Tyler..." He wipes at Tyler's tears. "You are so strong, I l-love you."

Josh gently, soothingly caresses Tyler, stroking his hair and keeping eye contact with the now understandably cold boy.

"Tyler, you're so strong. I'm... I'm so glad you're o-okay, now... I'll make sure it never happens again.."

Josh's voice cracks harshly, trembling and twitching.

Anger boils in his chest.

_ How dare anyone do this to his baby boy. _

Tyler comes down from the memories as Josh comforts him. It was so long ago.  _ Why hasn't he forgotten yet? Will he ever forget? _

When finally Josh's gentle sky blue hands are all he feels he takes a breath. He is still shaking slightly but he isn't trembling so badly that he can hear his bones rattling. 

"Thank you, Josh," Tyler whispers. He looks into Josh's mocha eyes and finds a mix of red-orange-yellow, like anger but less like bricks. It was something just as strong but not as sharp. He had memorized what that was. 

"I love you. I love you so much."

_ Do you, Tyler? Are you sure you know what that feels like? _

_ Shutupshutupshutup. _

Josh carefully shushes Tyler, painting a gentle pink-white onto Tyler's lips as he presses his to the cold boy's.

"Tyler, I love you too, a lot, baby boy. I won't stop loving you, ever. You mean everything to me..."

_ Tyler makes him feel symmetrical. _

Maybe someday he'd tell Tyler what's happened to him, to make him so inclined on symmetry and neatness.

_ He wasn't that strong yet. Tyler was. _

_ And Josh admires Tyler for that. _

A soothing touch coaxes Tyler to calmness, or, at least, a bit more calm than before.

Tyler has calmed back down now. The oceans in his chest gently lap at the sand in his lungs instead of crashing against the shores. He sighs. The storm is over for now.

He debates between going back to sleep and starting the day. A powder-like sunrise is just over the horizon outside. It is early and he still hasn't slept much, but the possibility of the nightmare scares him. Lots of possibilities scare him.

The calmness that Josh can sense is a pleasant pinkish color that begins to flow within him, too, the oceans slowly shifting to his chest, slowly becoming a single, peaceful ocean.

He likes it like this, so much. Despite any symmetrical flaws in his chest, Tyler made it feel just a bit more symmetrical, less crooked. 

A shuddering breath brings warmth into Josh’s lungs as he speaks. “Baby boy, do you wanna get up? Get cleaned up? I’ll carry you, so you don’t have to use much energy,” The look in his cocoa eyes shifts a bit, something softer, much softer than red-orange-yellow, but just as vibrant as he locks eyes with Tyler. “I’ll wash my baby boy’s face gently, but only if you want. I’ll be soft and gentle with you.”

A soft and weightless breath escapes his lips as he shows a soft smile to Tyler, nothing with teeth but full of love; a soft pink that flows just perfectly, something nice. “We should also probably eat, I mean, we both haven’t eaten anything for at least a day… or two… not too much. It’s okay, I’m not mad. We should eat though, I’ll eat anything you’d like and I’ll make you anything too. I’ll make sure you’re safe, yeah?” Josh feels the ocean ease into symmetrical waves of safety that laps at his toes.

_ He can almost smell the ocean air as he stares into beautiful hazel eyes. _

Tyler nods. “Y-Yeah, we should probably get up and start the day… You don’t have to wash my face though, dog breath,” he giggles, smiling at Josh.

_ Josh made even scary things okay. _

Only Josh could make him smile like this, after a nightmare, after remembering what had happened.

_ Only Josh could make him okay. _

And that was why he loved him, he thinks as he leans forward and presses a kiss to Josh’s C major lips.

The kiss sends a beautiful array of greens and soft pinks mixed in with magenta-white bliss. He feels right, it all feels right.

The kiss doesn’t bring back memories of an animal that had been present.

But it’s soft. Like rabbit’s fur.

After a few moments, the kiss is broken but not the love as he slowly gets up, feet hitting the ground organized.  _ Left, then right.  _

It doesn’t feel too needed this time as he gets up and moves to Tyler’s side of the bed, smiling down gently with those C major lips. 

Hands coated in green slowly lift Tyler up and off the bed, bridal style, allowing Tyler to hide his face in the crook of Josh’s neck so gently.

“See? This is gonna be okay.” He giggles since Tyler called him dog breath, which he loved despite the playfulness. “Dog breath’s gonna make sure your breath doesn’t smell like dogs, I’m cursed with it.”

Josh lets out a soft pink-moth winged laugh, slowly drifting out of the room and holding Tyler close, so close.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah? I’ll wash your face, too.”

Once in the bathroom, a slow way taken due to Josh wanting to count steps, he sets Tyler down very gently.

Tyler tilts his face up after a soft, faded orange washcloth is dampened in the sink, and Josh smiles at him as he squeezes out the extra water and brings it up to Tyler’s face. Gentle strokes over his jaw, his cheekbones and his forehead. Josh can’t help but laugh when Tyler pulls a face at the washcloth wiping between his eyes. 

Tyler laughs, too.

Josh then opens the cabinet, pulling out two toothbrushes and the pill bottle that held Tyler’s meds. He practically lived with Tyler, so Josh had a toothbrush, too. Josh also knew exactly what Tyler's dosage was.

He puts toothpaste on the toothbrushes and hands Tyler's brush to him.

Josh brushed his teeth for exactly 88 seconds; even in both appearance of the numbers and amount. He spits twice into the sink and runs the water for himself for eight seconds.

If he ever broke any of those numbers, Josh would have to start over and recount.

He does it perfectly this time, focus completely on those.

He hands Tyler two pills, "Take them for me. We can fight Blurryface together, I promise."

Tyler brushes his teeth quickly, enough until his teeth feel squeaky clean like the keys on his piano and he can imagine them being just as white. He notices Josh's ritual. He doesn't mind.

When Josh hands him the pills he stops. He is conflicted for a moment. There is a part of him that hates taking the pills- hates the feeling of his thoughts being controlled, of his feelings being medicated, suppressed. There was another part that loved it, that wanted to be on so many pills he never had thoughts again, wanted to overdose.

Tyler wasn't sure which was Blurryface and which was him.

He looked from the pills that were like pebbles into Josh's mocha eyes. Yellow. He wasn't getting out of this.

He sighed, took the pills and threw them down his throat so he wouldn't taste the chemicals. He swallowed quickly and they scratched his throat. He could feel them the whole way down.  
"Okay. We can." He makes himself smile and it is only forced for a second until he takes Josh's hand in his. "Breakfast?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was a bit short, but at least mostly sweet, yeah?


	4. The Dirt Caked On His Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh twitches a bit, hardly hearing what Tyler even said.
> 
> "Straighten the sh-sheets, don't get beat..." He barely mutters this sharply under his breath, the cells laugh at him and the cuts burn.

Josh watches Tyler swallow the pills in a hypnotic state.  _ Oh, he had to take his own pills too. _

_ Oops. He left them at home. _

_ One more day without medication wouldn't hurt... _

Josh feels his skin cells stare at him.

A frown stretches on his lips before he fakes a smile for Tyler, squeezing his baby boy's hand and pulling him off the counter.

"Thank you for taking your meds. Do it for me, if you can." Of course he knew about Tyler throwing out his pulls and hardly taking them. He knows because he used to get high on them whenever Tyler threw them out.

The high made Josh forget about how t _ he chair in his room didn't align perfectly parallel with the window, or the fact that on the seat he takes daily on the bus to the skate park only had 21 pieces of dried gum and not 22, or that he cut himself and the cut wasn't perfectly two inches long. _

Josh stopped those highs, of course. He knew it was wrong. 

Josh drags Tyler into the kitchen, digging through the kitchen and pantry. "What do you want to eat?" He grumbles, "We can catch the 8:18 bus to get Taco Bell." 

There was one before that, it would be more convenient; however it was at 7:21. His least favorite numbers that triggered him and made the skin cells stare and made his fingers tingle and made him lose control.

"Or we can walk."

Tyler watches Josh digging through the kitchen absentmindedly. There isn't much food there. Not much that he can eat anyway. The apples in the fridge are starting to rot and he hates the kinds of cereal and ramen that was there.

Taco Bell sounds promising.

It's getting out of the house.

_ Doesn't he need to do more of that? _

**_Get out of your own head, Tyler._ **

"We could do that. It's probably going to be a better option than anything we'll find here."

Tyler's pantry is not organized. This is something Josh always loudly reminds Tyler of when he looks in it. Nothing in Tyler's life is organized. He is a mess.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he checks it. A reminder. The only way Tyler knows what day it is and when he needs to do something.

"I have an appointment with my therapist at one this afternoon," he announces.

Josh twitches a bit, hardly hearing what Tyler even said.

"Straighten the sh-sheets, don't get beat..." He barely mutters this sharply under his breath, the cells laugh at him and the cuts burn.

He quickly, suddenly, lurches forward and begins to quickly organize the items in the pantry.

Canned goods organized by food group and date. Cereals by sugar content. Ramen by flavor, brand, and date.

His movement is sporadic, panicked, fast. He's sweating by the end.

Josh trembles all over. "Y-you can't break me if I'm clean, s-squeaky clean..."

He flinches when he heard Tyler's breathing. 

Josh smiles gently. "Lets go to Taco Bell..." The smile he shared is fake is stale, just like the ramen he organized.

Josh lingers before walking away, almost in a trance, into Tyler's room without another word, leaving Tyler standing there alone in the kitchen.

Tyler halts, watching in a dazed fear as Josh seems to go momentarily crazy, organizing everything. The quick movements bother Tyler. The sounds of the cans being moved makes him twitch.

**_It's nothing, Tyler, just a normal noise. What's wrong with you?_ **

_ I can't stand it. Stop it. _

He almost pulls Josh away when the rustling of the ramen packages gets too loud.

_ Breathe. _

**_Don't scratch._ **

_ He'll be done soon. _

Tyler can taste the fakeness of Josh's smile when he leaves. Tyler doesn't want to follow him. He wants to claw at his neck. The sounds are caught in his ears.

_ Why do these little things upset him so much? _

Josh throws Tyler's door closed, hyperventilating. Two seconds between heavy breaths, each breath lasts four seconds. He keeps fucking up this cycle and starting over and getting more and more uncomfortable.

He looks around.  _ Everyone is watching, he's hurting him, touching. _

_ Clean. Clean. Squeaky clean. _

_ To hide the dirt caked on his mind.. _

Josh sobs, tearing apart Tyler's room and organizing as much as he can. He's saying things loudly, now.

"If you stay clean, it won't hurt, if you clean up afterwards you aren't a dirty boy, you aren't the problem, stay clean so it's clean every time you're touched..."

Josh trembles and collapses after he can't find a red color pencil to place on the opposite side of Tyler's desk.

"I'm so messy.."  _ Control. Where is the control? _

_ The control is in him not locking the door. _

The control is in him pressing down on the cuts through the bandages, so it hurts without physical evidence.

Josh wants to lose control. Josh wants to jump off the bridge near Tyler's house at 11:11pm, the most even appearing number on the clocks. How odd, however.

He needs his medication, but he doesn't care.

The noise in his head dies down and Tyler makes his way to his room where Josh is. He reaches up hesitantly and knocks twice on the door. He knows it is an even number. 

_ He hopes it is a number Josh likes. _

The door is unlocked but he is scared of going in. Scared of what he'll find. Scared Josh will be manic. Scared he'll get overwhelmed.

_**You did this to him. You should have kept the pantry organized.** _   
_ It's my fault. _


	5. One, one, one, one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sits down on the curb, pulling Tyler down with him. He gently sets a sky blue hand on Tyler's knee, smiling the first genuine smile he can muster for Tyler.
> 
> "I love you, don't forget that."
> 
> Josh says it in an unsettling tone; as if it was a final goodbye, or a frightful secret.

Josh perks up at the even knock. Control. Is that control?

_ Hmmm... Maybe. _

"Come in..." Josh mutters loudly, sitting up and trying to fix the curtains beside him so they were both exactly two inches above the windowsill.

He looks over to the door.

_ Even. Even. Odd. Even. Even. Odd. Even. Even. _

The numbers and patterns swarm his mind.

_ A voice. _

It startles Josh.

_ 'Do you like feeling squeaky clean?'  _ says the voice in Josh's head.

Josh shakes his head no.

_ 'Do you want to feel dirty? Hurt yourself, make everything not even. But do.' _

Josh is confused by the voice.

The voice leaves with a soft cackle and Josh is left with a migraine.

Surveying the room, everything looks utterly different. Neat, yes, but strangely and uncomfortably symmetrical.

Tyler steps quietly into the room, looking around. Everything is different. Tyler is afraid to touch anything, afraid he'll throw something off again.

**_You should have kept your room clean for him. Look what you've done._ **

_ Go away. You aren't helpful. _

"Thanks," Tyler murmurs, looking around. He doesn't know what else to say.

_ Things will be better outside of the house. _

"Are you ready to go to Taco Bell?"

Josh twitches, rising abruptly to his face and walking fast over to Tyler, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

"It's n-not your fault... It's not..."

He gulps, nodding. "L-let's go, okay?" He flinches when he knocks over that stupid red pencil from before.

_ 'What're you gonna do, you little boy?' _

Josh nearly jumps at the voice in his head.

He doesn't answer.

_ 'Look, you'd get beaten for this. Clean up your mess.' _

Josh weakly picks up the pencil and spends a few minutes making the pencil parallel with the one on the other side of the desk.

"L-Let's go..." He holds on tightly to Tyler's hand.

Tyler grips Josh's hand and he is a hesitant shade of purple. If he holds onto him tightly enough, can he get him to calm down? Tyler hates this.

He hates being afraid of Josh. 

_ Please stop moving. You move too fast. You do too much. _

**_Should have kept your room clean. Should have fought harder._ **

Tyler leads Josh quietly out of the house. His fingers are orange as he strokes the back of Josh's hand for comfort. Soft sky blue hands that wouldn't hurt him.

Right?

**_Stop being afraid, Tyler._ **

He bites his lip, squeezes Josh's hand harder, counts his breath as his thumb strokes the back of Josh's hand. 

**_Don't scratch._ **

Josh slowly takes even breaths that are even,  _ inhale for two seconds, exhale for two. Don't step on cracks, one step to each square of sidewalk. _

The grip on his hand slows and soothes him, but without the clutter of organizing every thought and action and word, without the affects of being high; not fun regardless of however he felt.

A twinge of hate and annoyance flows openly through him as Tyler missed a step, stepped on a crack in the sidewalk.

Josh doesn't say anything as it would be rude.

_ 'Messy messy messy, you like feeling messy and dirty?' _ The voice grins within him. Josh was frightened, merely grabbing a bit tightly onto Tyler's hand.

He doesn't respond to the voice, but he does calm down with Tyler's rhythmic hand gestures.

It hurts. It really does.

But Tyler made the pain numb.

Tyler tried his best to match his steps with Josh's, with the stroke of his thumb, with his breathing. 

**_Don't go so fast, Tyler._ **

**_Faster now!_ **

**_Can't you keep pace with the rest of the kids?_ **

For the most part, he is calm when they arrive in Taco Bell. His mother called it Taco Hell, because it always upset everyone's stomach an hour or so later. He squinted against fluorescent lights in faint purple-blue watercolor tones, just enough color to notice, not enough to be sure you weren't imagining it.

They made him dizzy.

**_Can't you go anywhere without doing this? This is why you should just stay at home._ **

He gulps as he realizes he'll have to order. Fake-orange unease rises inside of him.

**_Speak up! Nobody can hear you when you mutter.  Speak up!_ **

_ The sound hurts my ears.  _

**_Then you won't eat._ **

He continues to stroke Josh's hand as he pretends to stare at the menu.

Josh noticed Tyler trying to match Josh's footing.

It calms him. The coil of anxiety loosens and becomes replaced with a soft, orangish glow.

He loves to watch Tyler's glowing eyes.

The menu is organized, layers of text bolded in the right colors shine out to him.

His hands gently clasp over both of Tyler's hands, a comforting gesture. Josh had felt Tyler's discomfort.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll order it for us."

The two of them both got looks of disgust and adoration, at this point it was obvious that Tyler and Josh were a couple, with how soothingly Josh was stroking Tyler's fingers.

Some people thought it was adorable. Some were massive jerks and thought it was  _ "wrong" _ .

Josh doesn't really care, as he presses a soft kiss to Tyler's forehead.

"I'll get you whatever you want."

He hopes he's doing this right, hopes he's being sweet and careful to Tyler.

"Then we can go home and shower and then we can cuddle... Like that?"

Tyler nods, Josh's sweet-tea kiss like a fluttering butterfly against his skin. It calms him.

_ Josh will help you. You don't have to be alone. _

He takes no notice of the other people in the restaurant. Well, he does notice - their chatter is loud in his head - but he tries not to pay attention. 

_ Pay attention to what's in front of you. _

If he doesn't, he'll get distracted. Scrambled. Scattered.

_ Collect your thoughts. Pay attention. _

He focuses on his hands in Josh's. His hands are pale orange. They contrast with the sky blue of Josh's. 

It's pretty.

"I'm not very hungry," he tells Josh. He knows he hasn't eaten in days and is probably starving, but he rarely has an appetite. "Just a beef taco." 

He rests his head against Josh's shoulder. 

**_You can't even do this on your own. Pathetic._ **

_ I don't like feeling alone. _

Josh smiles warmly, the skin on his muscles finally calming. He wraps an arm around Tyler's waist as he walks up and orders two tacos, pleased by the even number of items.

He's done this a million times.

Hope for an even amount of cost, and change.

The total is perfectly even, and Josh exhales a breath he didn't even know he was holding inside of his weak lungs.

"You two are really the cutest couple!" a middle aged mom says aloud, smile genuine. Josh blushes a deep maroon, pulling Tyler closer on instinct and smiling warmly at Tyler. 

"Yeah, it's pretty hard to not be cute when you're with this cutie boy." Josh kisses Tyler's head and waves a goodbye to the lady who was so happy about the two.

Josh grabs the good and quickly exits with Tyler, hating the asymmetrical look of the tiles below and seating.

He hands Tyler one of the tacos, unwrapping his own and staring at it.

A shaky breath. "Tyler, we need to eat. I know we might not want to or we might not have an appetite, but we do need to." Josh speaks harsh truth, something he didn't exactly want to believe. 

He takes a bite. "Please eat, if anything, do it for me."

Tyler turns petal-pink as the woman calls them a cute couple, as Josh calls him cute.

The blush on his cheeks is the same color and he smiles. 

Outside, when Josh hands him the yellow taco that he knows is probably killing him and tells him he needs to eat, he pauses.

_ When was the last meal you had? _

_ Four days ago. Lunch. Ramen. He had wound up puking it up less than half an hour later when he had a panic attack. _

_ When was the last meal you kept down? _

Tyler couldn't think. The past week was too much of a blur.

He takes a bite of his taco for Josh.

Josh feels relief wash over when he sees Tyler eating the taco. He stares at his own.

_ Final supper?  _

_ What a funny thing to eat as a final thing. _

He did plan. That night.

_ One, one, one, one _ . 

The bridge.

Sinking his teeth into the food before him, he savors the flavors he hasn't had for so, so long.

A week? He can't remember at this point. Food felt good but sickening at the same time.

He sits down on the curb, pulling Tyler down with him. He gently sets a sky blue hand on Tyler's knee, smiling the first genuine smile he can muster for Tyler.

"I love you, don't forget that."

Josh says it in an unsettling tone; as if it was a final goodbye, or a frightful secret.

_ Disorganization. _   
That feeling swells in his stomach, fear and pain.


	6. 33 Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course.... Tyler didn't need to know that.
> 
> Baby boy didn't need to know that.
> 
> Baby boy needs to only know that Joshie loves him.
> 
> And that's all Josh lets him know.

Tyler's brow furrows as he senses something midnight blue-yellow-green from Josh. Josh's tone of voice. It's not right.

Orange unease settles in his stomach.

_ Please keep your food down. _

He traces dizzying figure eights on the back of Josh's hand. "Why are you acting so strange?" 

Almost immediately he regrets it.

**_Bad choice of words._ **

**_Think before you speak._ **

**_Don't you know how to talk to people?_ **

_ No, I don't. I'm sorry. _

He casts a glance at Josh, praying he won't be stormy.

Josh flinches. "It's okay, I'm just tired. My voice is kinda weak."

_ What a fat fucking lie. _

_ 'Do you want to get beaten? Clean up your mess.' _

Josh ignores the voice for the time being, a deep, gross feeling swelling inside his chest.

"You'll see what I mean tomorrow."

_ 'When I don't wake up beside you. When you find me behind police tape. When you see me in a closed casket,' _ Josh thinks to himself.

_ The last day of his life should be filled with joy. _

_ It needs to be filled with Tyler. _

Josh had impeccably organized multiple plans for whatever deathly ideas swam in his mind.

Organization on how to die quickly, not be found, make it seem like he was okay.

Organization to do it without anyone noticing.

He was done with organization, the hands that slapped him and slammed his face into a door if he didn't perfectly clean the counters, swipes all left for approximately three inches.

_ Time for one grand, final act of self-control. _

"You'll see, baby boy." His voice is bleak and hollow, like the haunting ring of a piano key or the echo of someone speaking when no one is there.

_ Josh is pretty sure he isn't there, dead already. _

Tyler tastes it in his mouth, the fake-orange-yellow of lies. Josh is lying to him.

_ Everyone has always tried to hide the truth from me. _

**_They think you're stupid. Retarded. You won't be able to handle it._ **

A low F rings out in his chest, rattling his bones. It hurts. 

Being called baby boy hurts, because it comes with this sense of finality. A night with no stars, no moon, no clouds. Silence.

Silence hurts worse than screaming.

"Please never leave me," Tyler whispers. The words fell out of his mouth without his permission and he has no idea where the came from but now they are out in the air and he can't pull them back.

His fingers twist at Josh's shirt.

_ I hate feeling alone. _

Josh flinches, seeing the hand gripped tight to his shirt.

".....I won't leave you right now, Tyler."

_ Tonight? That's a different story. _

"Baby, I love you. You're my everything..." The light in his chest is dim and nearly going out. Tyler was the only thing keeping it from going out at the moment, and he could be the only person able to change that lightbulb for a new one.

He wraps a bandaged arm around Tyler, pulling him almost completely into his lap.

"Shh. Let's eat, okay? We need to eat."

Stress boils in his lungs as he realizes leaving would be a bit harder to do. But it was the only way to escape control in a controlled fashion.

_ It's kinda funny, isn't it? _

Irony bleeds through his body as he finishes his food, wiping his mouth on a napkin before wiping Tyler's mouth a bit. "We aren't leaving until you finish your food, Tyler..."

Tyler pouts. Josh's words are as unsteady as the floorboards in the haunted house that had almost killed him. Uncertain.

_ Unpredictable. _

It made him shiver.

**_No scratching, Tyler._ **

He sighs and finishes his taco. It settles in his stomach over pills from that morning. 

_ Keep your food down. _

He checks the time. Though they have hours before his appointment, it is the only thing planned in his day, in his whole life.

"We need to leave by twelve thirty to make my appointment."

_ Steady. _

_ Certain. _

_ Predictable. _

"Will you come with me? She's been begging me to bring you in. She thinks you're very interesting."

_ Please say yes. _

_ Uneasy. _

He begins to scratch at the inside of his palm.

Josh stares at Tyler's hands, silent for a few minutes.

"....sure. I'll come. Is everything organized in the room? We should also shower before and wrap up together in a blanket burrito."

He smiles very weakly, kissing Tyler's temple gently. 

Tyler is a temple and he loves how gorgeous the architecture is.

Tyler is beautiful. Asymmetrical but not.

Beautiful.

"I'll give you a piggy back ride." He states this, rather than asking, and he carefully lifts Tyler up onto his back, adjusting, before walking and making their trek home.

Josh hums softly to Tyler.

It's easier to him than let the thoughts flood your eyes, cloudy, swampy.

Josh is unclean. Dirty. Hands. _Squeaky clean._

His skin cells are staring at him and watching quietly.

Josh hums.

Tonight he would lose control. 

_ Bye bye, Tyler. _

_ Goodnight, baby boy. _

_ Joshie will always love you. _

Tyler clings on Josh's back, resting his head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. Josh smells like cherry cigarettes and the woods at five in the morning. 

Not really, of course. Really Josh smelled like skin and leather. 

He clung a little tighter.

He was so scared of losing Josh. If he lost Josh he lost everything. 

Tyler was lost. He was like a little boy who had chased after a dog and gotten lost and Josh was the one leading him home. Josh was home.

Tyler didn't want to be lost again. 

It was too dark.

He thinks about Josh's question about the room. He begins to talk to fill the silence that is beginning to fill his head.

"Her office is very organized. There are two big squishy chairs that feel blue like the ocean and each has one pillow in it and her chair sits right in between them, in front, making a perfect triangle. Is a window behind the chairs and the door is parallel to that and her chair is right in the middle of that, too. There are bookshelves halfway between the chairs and her chair, one on each side, filled with books except for the very top and bottom shelves. Behind her chair to the left of the door, if you were looking from the window, is her desk which only has on it her computer, a stack of papers, a notebook, a clipboard and a stack of sticky notes. She also has a drawer full of candy and she gives me one when I come in and one when I leave. Across from her desk, on the right of the room, is a big couch that feels like it could eat you." Tyler thinks of the times he has become a sobbing mess on the couch. "And it always smells like clean rain."

Tyler thinks of the times he has become a sobbing mess on the couch. "And it always smells like clean rain."

Josh nearly stops walking as he soaks in this description.

Calm. Safe. Ocean. Lapping at his feet.

Wires lanky and swaying gently in his lungs.

He breathes.

"Oh, that sounds so... Nice. I like that..."

He likes Tyler way more.

Finally reaching Tyler's home, he steps through the door and gently sets Tyler down on the clean carpet of his bedroom.

"I have to run over to my place really quick, grab my phone." He kisses Tyler in a longing way, before... Jumping out of Tyler's window and running over to the house beside Tyler's.

Minutes later, he comes running back with his phone and a notebook that's beaten, heavily written in.

Curiosity.

Josh gulps, climbing back in through the window.

The notebook was his plans. Plans to die.

Of course.... Tyler didn't need to know that.

_ Baby boy didn't need to know that. _

_Baby boy needs to only know that Joshie loves him_.

And that's all Josh lets him know.

While Josh is gone Tyler picks absentmindedly at the carpet, occupying his fingers.

**_Don't pick._ **

He frowns and scratches at his wrists. How long has it been?

**_Don't scratch._ **

He puts his head in his hands. The ocean in his chest rises up again, swelling against rocks in his lungs.

**_Sit up._ **

Tyler complies. Folds his hands in his lap. Stares at one spot on the wall.

Uncomfortable.

**_Act right._ **

He frowns at the feeling of the room. He fears that if he gets up and moves anything, he will throw off this balance Josh has carefully created.

Tyler hates the balance. It's too easy to throw off.

He is on a tightrope. 

**_Get your balance, Tyler._ **

His lungs tighten. There are rocks in them.

Josh sets the notebook down on the neatly made bed, humming softly and blinking at Tyler on the ground.

"Baby boy, are you okay?"

He gets down, pulling Tyler into a hug. "I'm so sorry I left, I mean it, I'm so sorry, baby boy..."

The feeling of a million knives press through Josh's chest as he realizes that he messed up and caused Tyler to feel worse. "I'm not leaving right now. Not right now, I promise."

Uneasiness cloaks his voice, his skin is screaming and something is off. Something is disorganized, incorrect.

What is it?

Josh takes a deep breath and looks through his notebook, dropping it so it lay splayed open on a disorganized page.

How could he have missed this? How?

The title of the page, in red pen, read, "Overdosage of drugs, not on Medication". The first and last words were capitalized, there was an even number of words in the title. But 33 letters. Uneven.

Josh sits down silently, kicking the notebook away from him as he hides a meltdown from Tyler. He smiles in a panicked fashion.

Stiff. Fear.

Squeaky clean, let the fingers dig into your skin.

_ Isn't that right, Joshie? _

Disobeying isn't helping. Squeaky squeaky clean.

It really does hurt.   
"Don't kill me, please. I tried to keep it neat, keep it e-even.."


	7. Cleanliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Tyler know how to clean Josh?  
> If Josh wanted, he could snap Tyler in two and slam him against the tiles like what his uncle did...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long but cute. sorry for length between updates. havent been well. -tyler

Tyler leans gently into the hug. He is okay. The voice in his head just needs to go away.

**_Well if you would act right-_ **

_Shut up._

What does it mean to 'act right'?

Tyler sees the notebook page for a fraction of a second, but the words are instantly etched in his mind, red and black and angry like the scratches on his skin. They scream at him, a high pitched alarm in his head.

**Overdose.**

**Overdose.**

**Overdose.**

He covers his ears. It hurts.

**_Overdose._ **

The word is on repeat in his head. He wants to scream. Wants to rip out that page, tear it into tiny pieces. What would that do to Josh?

_Act right, Tyler._

_Never act on impulse._

He moves his hands, curling them into fists so Josh won't see that his fingers are shaking. "Josh... Why does that say... Overdose?" The word cuts at his throat like glass, lodges there. He wants to claw it out. Wants to scream.

**_Act right, Tyler._ **

**_Never act on impulse._ **

Josh blinks in surprise.

_Oh, dear._

A soft laugh erupts from Josh, twitching, thrumming.

It's not Josh's laugh. It's too hollow, like the barrel of a gun. Too cold, like a corpse in a morgue.

"My uncle wanted me to be squeaky clean. It's the only way I can be..." this is said through a large, destroyed smile.

"It hurts." He carefully tears the paper into shreds.

"It's nothing."

The shreds are not equal length, not symmetrical.

_It's fake._

_He's fake._

_Smile for the camera, Joshie._

_Oh, how Joshie loves his baby boy._

_Close your eyes and don't watch._

_Peek through the slits in your fingers, the slits in your arms._

_It's nothing, not anymore._

"It wasn't something I would do. Just... Ideas."

_Smile for the camera, Joshie._

_Where did that smile go?_

_Fake it for your baby boy._

_Come on, Joshie._

Tyler bites the inside of his mouth until it hurts. Everything is turning a stark shade of white. Hospital beds. The smell of bleach.

Where is Josh?

He starts to scratch at his wrists, nervous. He is lost.  This is unpredictable. Josh is unpredictable.

The trees in his mind shift, birds rustling their feathers. There is no wind.

_Steady yourself._

_Balance._

An unsteady question. One he shouldn't ask.

**_Don't ask, Tyler._ **

He digs his nails into his wrist. "What hurts, Josh?"

Josh yanks Tyler's hands away from his wrists. "D-Don't do that, don't, you're clean and happy, please don't."

He gulps, twitching a bit as he shivers.

"My mind hurts. I get anxious and scared when something is wrong or not symmetrical..."

Was he about to tell Tyler?

_Really?_

It's fear in his throat as he pukes up his insides, not literally, figuratively.

"My u-uncle made me clean everything whenever he babysat me. If I d-didn't clean right, he would.... Hit me, touch me... He... H-he told me to stay s-squeaky clean for whenever he was angry at me, so he could.."

 The pain consumes him.

".....y'know.." Josh hopes Tyler can take a heavily implied hint.

_It hurts. It really does._

_Oh well._

It hits Tyler like a ton of bricks. That's a term it seems like everyone uses, but to Tyler it was real- everything suddenly hit him, crushing him, drowning him. He was choking on the dust and his bones shattered.

_Not Josh._

Josh didn't deserve to hurt like that.

Tyler hardly notices that his eyes are waterfalls. Why didn't he know this already?

**_Your life is a trainwreck. You cause this. You should keep things clean. Make him happy._ **

**_This is all your fault._ **

He kisses Josh's cheeks- careful that it's the same spot. Give him symmetry. Make him happy.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, holding Josh's hands tightly so he won't keep scratching.

**_Don't do that._ **

"What can I do to make it hurt less?"

Josh's eyes flicker up dimly to Tyler's eyes. "Kill me."

No happiness. It's gone.

Every night his uncle came into his room for 'fun times'.

_It wasn't fun._

Every time hands were on his chest, his skin, oh god, did it burn.

 

It sizzles and sears the tears into his skin.

 

_It doesn't feel right._

 

"Make me clean. Please." Tears threaten to spill, tears choke his throat up.

 

_It hurts. It hurts._

 

Josh doesn't know how Tyler could clean him, hopefully he could mask the feelings and the touches and the tears.

 

_Is Josh even here?_

 

Tyler takes Josh's face in his hands. He is cold again. Cold and very far away. He has to force himself to think.

 

What Josh said makes him feel as though he is swallowing glass. "No no no, I could never do that. I'll do anything but hurt you. Please."

 

_He just wants Josh back._

 

_This is not Josh._

 

_Lost._

 

"Come on. I'll play you music. I'll kiss you and hug you and hold you. I just-"

 

**_Just what, Tyler?_ **

 

I just want to hurt for him. I can shatter into a million pieces but he'll put me back together.

 

"Please don't leave me."

 

_Tyler is alone._

 

**_You're alone._ **

 

_Josh doesn't answer that._

 

"I...." He can't finish. Josh never is able to finish what he starts.

 

Why, though?

 

"......" He wants to be clean with Tyler. A shower? A bath?

 

"I want to be clean."

 

No matter how much raw scrubbing of a bristle brush it won't get the disgusting touches off his skin. Ever.

 

No matter how much the metal bristles scratch and scrub into and cut his skin, he won't ever be clean.

 

_Dirty, dirty boy._

 

"I... I want to be clean." He repeats himself, a bit more wavering and fearful than before.

 

Josh doesn't know how to describe the painful feeling to Tyler. He never will.

 

"........." Silence falls over Josh, just like a wave of fear of being hit.

 

Tyler traces his fingers over Josh's jawline. God he's so beautiful, so perfect. Why does he have to hurt?

 

_Please let me hurt for him._

 

_I can do it I swear._

 

_I'll do anything to hurt for him._

 

Whispered prayers to a God he isn't so sure exists.

 

_If you can hear me, let me hurt for him._

 

There's glass in his mind. A glimmer of an idea.

 

It won't work, but it might help.

 

Maybe it will bring Josh back.

 

He sits up a little, sitting with his legs on either side of Josh's, hands on his shoulders.

 

It used to make his therapist feel good. Maybe it will make Josh feel good?

 

_It scares Tyler._

 

**_Good. You're hurting for him._ **

 

His lips ghost over Josh's forehead. Beautiful. Let him hurt for him. "Do you want to shower? I'll clean you."

 

A soft shiver as Tyler touches his jaw.

 

His uncle touched him like that when he was small, probably about eight years old.

 

But this time... It feels right.

 

Twitches as Tyler straddles his lap, flinching as the kiss is pressed to his forehead.

 

However, the legs on either side of him weren't pinning him down. The kiss on his face was smack in the middle of his forehead and gentle.

 

Gentle, unlike the rough, forceful kisses he had before.

 

His uncle was more rough. "Why are you.. Being so gentle? That's not right, you're supposed to force."

 

Josh trembles a little, however, his hands stop shaking when he puts his hands carefully on Tyler's hips.

 

_Careful. Remember. Tyler's been through so much worse._

 

_Careful, he might hurt him._

 

Tyler might pin down Josh and destroy the last bit of organization inside him.

 

"Y-Yes, I do want to shower.. Just.. Please don't make me dirty."

 

Squeaky clean. Was it any better?

 

Tyler shakes his head when Josh says to force. He knows what force feels like.

 

**_Burning skin._ **

 

**_Vision blurred._ **

 

**_Stars._ **

 

**_Come back, Tyler. Pay attention!_ **

 

He knows what it is like to not be in control of anything. For your body to betray you. For you to come apart.

 

Tyler finds it interesting, for a moment, how he and Josh wound up polar opposites. They had both lost control when they were young, and now Josh had a desperate need for it, whereas Tyler couldn't cling to a thread.

 

**_You are unorganized. You are dirty. You make him uncomfortable._ **

 

**_Your fault._ **

 

Tyler does not care that he is dirty. He did it to himself. Josh didn't. He wants to make Josh clean.

 

The gentle weight of Josh's hands on his hips makes him hyper-aware of his body and he shuts his eyes.

 

"Shh, I'll clean you off. I promise. It's okay."

 

_Does Tyler know how to clean him?_

 

Josh blinks in confusion.

 

Why did Tyler shake his head?

 

"But... That's not right.. You need to use force.. It's not right unless you do... It's..." He gives in.

 

What's the point of explaining over and over?

 

It still feels wrong to not have lips forced on him during touching as 'intimate' as this.

 

Was what his uncle did wrong? Was Tyler doing this... _Right_?

 

"Don't make me dirty," Josh nearly spits, he hopes Tyler knows he didn't mean it as a rude statement, fear in his eyes.

 

The hands on Tyler's hips gently scoop up the boy, carrying him into the bathroom.

 

Josh ignores the belt he so wished to tie around his own neck.

 

He decides on a bath, resting and soothing with Tyler rather than splashy and squeaky like his uncle...

 

The water begins to fill the tub, josh mixes in bubble bath that hadn't been used for years.

 

Now, came the hard part.

 

"Are you okay with undressing in front of me and getting in a bath with me?"

 

The fear rises. Getting undressed... In front of another person...

 

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to be clean."

 

Tyler shakes his head. "It's okay." He has not undressed in front of anyone since the incidents. Not even a mirror. He hates seeing his own body. He gets dressed in the dark. Otherwise he can see where he was touched, angry red handprints on his body, trying to scare him. They are everywhere. Some are brighter.

 

**_He wants to claw at them._ **

 

_Breathe, Tyler._

 

The most intimate he has gotten with Josh is light touches on his thighs, through his jeans. Not even sexual, only loving. But they sent shivers through him and he never knew if he liked it or not.

 

Tyler begins to pull off his shirt, tossing it aside.

 

**_Don't look too close, Tyler, you'll see the handprints._ **

 

**_Don't look too close, Josh, you'll see the scratches._ **

 

Tyler forgot about the scratches. New skin is just growing over them. There are nail marks down his sides, on his ribs, in a line.

 

There are lines on his thighs.

 

_Don't look too close, Josh._

 

Josh shivers at the skin being exposed before him.

 

Not because of the thought of Tyler being naked before him.

 

But because of the horrid scratches, claws digging through Tyler's sanity and tearing him apart, tearing him away from Josh.

 

Josh smiles gently. "I'll never hurt you. I'm really in love with you and I'm Josh, not anyone else."

 

Josh carefully peels off his shirt, toned skin scarred with hundreds of parallel lines.

 

_Control. Control. Self control._

 

He pulls off his jeans.

 

Lines. Two inches in length, one inch apart.

 

_Control._

 

His uncle is standing in the doorway, watching Josh's skin.

 

_Figuratively. Of course._

 

His uncle actually isn't there, but his memory is.

 

Joshie, just close your eyes. Time to get squeaky dirty. A dirty you can't scrub off.

 

Josh trembles, in boxers before Tyler. Eyes shut.

 

Soon Tyler is standing in his boxers before Josh, fingertips just barely trembling. He is okay.

 

**_Get your head straight, Tyler._ **

 

He sees the lines all across Josh. They are neat and parallel, exact. Tyler's scars are frantic, desperate, one over the other. Cluttered. He tries not to stare at Josh's scars.

 

The perfection bothers him.

 

"It's okay. I won't hurt you either. Everything is okay." He sees that Josh is trembling and he walks over and kisses him gently. His skin presses against Josh's for a split second and the feeling is almost overwhelmingly warm.

 

"We can do this."

 

With unsteady fingers, he begins to pull off his boxers, revealing the lines on his inner thighs. They barely constitute lines. A scarred mess.

 

_Breathe._

 

When the skin makes contact, a syrupy feeling pools in Josh's chest.

 

Warm, comfort.

 

And something else that Josh has never felt before. Not-metal, he's heard Tyler describe it as.

 

He looks Tyler over, smiling gently, ignoring the tiny marks that should've driven him mad.

 

No. Tyler is perfection in his eyes.

 

It doesn't matter how asymmetrical he is, how "imperfect" he is.

 

Josh sucks in a deep breath, pulling off his boxers quickly.

 

He wants Tyler's skin on his again, it felt safe.

 

Something he hasn't felt for years.

 

_It felt clean._

 

Josh shuts off the water, just staring over Tyler for a few moments and smiling.

 

In awe, Josh whispers.

 

"You're beautiful, baby boy."

 

Tyler blushes brightly at his words. His skin is on fire for a moment. Josh can't really think that.

 

Can he?

 

**_Tyler is a mess. He is not beautiful._ **

 

However, Josh is, and Tyler grins at him. Birds take off in his chest. One. A dozen. A whole flock.

 

_He is in love._

 

"You aren't so bad yourself, dog breath," he smiles. He reaches out and takes Josh's hand. He isn't trembling anymore.

 

He's going to be okay.

 

This is going to be warm, gentle, soft. Not cold and hard and forced.

 

The voices in his head have drowned in the bubbles, at least for now.

 

"Let's go." He starts to climb in the tub.

 

Josh flinches at the hand slipping against his own.

 

Pretty piano hands, careful and loving.

 

Josh loves the feeling of those hands.

 

"I love you, so much, Tyler." He slowly sinks into the bath on the opposite side of the bath, tangling his legs with Tyler's to pull him closer once he's seated nicely in the bubbles.

 

He feels clean. Clean.

 

Josh leans forward. Love.

 

In love.

 

His fingertips ghost along Tyler's jawline, stroking gently and bringing their faces closer in a deep stare.

 

Love. A deep syrupy feeling in his chest grows stronger, needy.

 

Josh smiles lightly, stroking this fingers to Tyler's lips, a thumb running over the pretty lips that Josh loves.

 

Back to the jaw. Josh holds his breath, is something supposed to happen?

 

Josh shifts closer.

 

_He hopes so._

 

Tyler shivers at the feeling of Josh's fingers over his jaw and his lips, painting them sky blue. God, he's so gentle.

 

He's the only person that gentle.

 

Tyler's legs are tangled, Josh's bare skin against his thighs, places that _shouldn't be touched, evil places, get away don't touch me no-_

 

_Breathe, Tyler._

 

His eyes find Josh's and he relaxes. He is safe. Josh told him he wouldn't let anything get to him.

 

_Trust him._

 

Warmth. It is so warm he is nearly overwhelmed. There needs to be another feeling. He presses his lips to Josh's. Sunsets. A perfect E. His fingers trace circles on Josh's chest.

 

He is needy.

 

He can't believe they are this close.

 

Josh's gasp is trapped within the kiss, gentle, careful.

 

But animalistic in a strange way. Syrup, yellow, pink.

 

It's strong. He loves it, he decides, as he moves closer to Tyler, hands touching Tyler's beautiful thighs and tummy.

 

A low noise gets trapped into the kiss, a deeper press, more love, more safety.

 

_Cleanliness._

 

Josh pulls away, breathing deeply, eyes staring carefully into Tyler's gentle eyes. Their lips barely connected, sharing air.

 

Josh's hand strokes along Tyler's inner thigh almost subconsciously.

 

"I love you," he breathes into Tyler's lips, "I feel safe with you."

 

Josh blinks a few times, smiling and kissing Tyler's face, many little kisses all over as he giggles and tickles Tyler just a bit.

 

Gentle. Then loving.

 

Little touches, it feels right. Josh pulls Tyler so he was comfortably wrapped up in Josh's lap, hands touching areas that once felt dirty.

 

Josh feels clean, for the first time since he was seven. Or was it eight?

 

He doesn't care, he decides, as he kisses along Tyler's pretty little jawline, shivers felt in his chest as he kisses this area that he maps out carefully.

 

Tyler is a beautiful temple, and must be worshiped and mapped out. Memorized.

 

Every small touch to his thighs and stomach send dandelions through Tyler, the tiny fuzzy seeds escaping from Josh's fingertips and breezing through his body.

 

He can't decide if he loves it or hates it.

 

He does not feel threatened. This is strange and surprising- there is always something that threatens Tyler. Noises. People. Feelings. His thoughts.

 

It is all quiet and Tyler is shimmering, dusted pink and all of the shades of the sunset.

 

The claw marks on his body make no difference to him. Josh's hand on his thigh and his lips on his jaw did.

 

Gentle. Dusting. The beat of a butterflies wings as he lets his eyes drift closed for a second.

 

He was never kissed there. Tyler was never kissed much. There were the broken-glass kisses that bruised his lips, but he wasn't kissed anywhere else. The feeling of Josh's lips there is new, but not scarily new. He has the feeling of Josh's lips memorized.

 

Cotton candy. C major. A bird's feathers.

 

His fingers stroke Josh's hair gently. He loves Josh's hair.

 

"I feel safe with you, too. I never feel safe," he admits. He is always scared. Not now.

 

Leading something intimate. Josh never knew he would ever be put in this place. It felt nice. _Control. Control._

 

_If he wanted to, he could snap Tyler in two and slam him against the tiles. Like what his uncle did during fun times._

 

Control also was what made Josh resent those events, regardless of whether or not he was able to stop them.

 

The realization that what his uncle did was actually indescribably wrong starts to flow through him, throwing the peace out of place.

 

Josh had control, and he would wield it like a shield than a sword.

 

 _Protect Tyler. Make him feel good_.

 

Run fingers along his thighs, pull him closer, make him feel more secure when he shudders from the careful touch.

 

Josh's hands pull Tyler so he's cradled by the water, but also slightly straddling his legs. Josh presses squeaky clean kisses to Tyler's neck, a bit harder than the other kisses.

 

_It actually does feel squeaky clean._

 

Josh kisses back up from the flower-like skin of Tyler's throat, staring deep into the weakened doe eyes that were Tyler's before he presses his lips to Tylers, a deep but, nonetheless loving and sweet.

 

Josh lets out a sound that could be only considered a mix of a pleasured groan and a giggle, and Josh realizes that's his favorite noise to make.

 

"Mmn, I love you, Tyler." Josh mutters this into the kiss, smile plastered to his lips as he continues to kiss tyler, giggles threatening to break the heavy kiss.

 

_Let this last forever. Let this last forever._

 

_That's all Josh needs to feel clean. To feel right._

 

_To feel not abused but loved._

 

_Control._

 

_Josh has control._

 

He bursts into giggles into the kiss.

 

Josh presses kisses to his chest and they feel less like butterflies each time. His body lights up. His breathing swells like the ocean and shudders slightly.

 

_They're so close._

 

Skin on skin. Scars on scars and scars on skin.

 

He lets out a small whimper, biting his lip.

 

Josh is laughing and Tyler tries to organize his thoughts but he's starting to swim. His eyes slip closed and he shudders again, holding, clinging onto Josh.

 

_They are so close._

 

_Can he bear getting any closer?_

 

Josh twitches a bit, pulling away and holding onto Tyler.

 

_Never let go._

 

"I love you." His breath is heavy, his lungs are full of clean air and Tyler.

 

His hands stroke at Tyler's face, as he's filled with happy, bright, and warm emotions.

 

"I'm laughing because I'm so happy with you, T-Tyler. Don't think I'm laughing at you."

 

His hands twist, wrapping around Tyler's waist as he rests his forehead against Tyler's.

 

It's so close. _Too close._ Josh loves it, feeling this gentle and intimate with a single person.

It feels even better to have Tyler as that person.

 

Everything is going right.

 

Josh's fingertips gently rub at Tyler's hips.

 

"Are you feeling any better, baby boy? I love you so much.."

 

_Checking to see if he fucked up yet._

 

_Josh feels scared._

 

Josh rubs at Tyler's hips- calming, slow, rhythmic- and he comes back. His forehead rests on Josh's and he blinks. Coming back.

 

 _Pay attention, Tyler_.

 

He takes a breath to cut through the swimming thoughts and feelings and considers Josh's question. Does he feel better?

 

He nods slowly and smiles. "I'm better. I love you."

 

_Petal pink. Warmth. Not hot, not red. Warm._

 

He gently kisses the corner of Josh's mouth and suddenly remembers that his request was to make him clean. Tyler looks around and finds a wash cloth, dipping it in the water and carefully reaching up to gently wash Josh's face, as he did for him this morning.

 

Tyler chews his lip, his eyes tracing Josh's features. He is lucky to be able to look at him.

 

_Pay attention._

 

Josh watches in silence as Tyler gently strokes the cloth across his face.

 

_Clean. It feels clean._

 

_It doesn't feel like daggers or hands or hits or slaps or dirt._

 

_It doesn't feel like the metal bristle brush at home that Josh tried to scrape his skin away with._

 

It feels subtle, gentle, petals on his skin and a soothing touch.

 

Josh can't help the tears that begin to spill.

 

_Crying muddy water, tainted._

 

_Tears he's held in since he was a small child._

 

_They all burst out._

 

Josh's lips curve into a smile.

 

"Thank y-you..." His breath is slow, feverish but calm.

 

His eyes stay trained on Tyler.

 

"You're m-my medicine..."


	8. Warm Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want you to kiss me a lot more. I love how you kiss." That's said with a soft giggly undertone, a smile plastered to his face.
> 
> The smile fades, Josh dragging his fingertips along Tyler's throat, careful.
> 
> Squeaky clean.
> 
> "I want you to stay alive for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update, but an update

Tyler notices Josh's tears and his heart cracks. He wipes them away softly. He wishes Josh had nothing to cry over, but he has everything in the world to cry over. 

"I'll do anything for you," he murmurs, wiping Josh's neck and shoulders. Soft places that Tyler rests his head. He wipes away all the times he's cried there. 

"Anything to make you happy." 

**_How far are you willing to go for him, Tyler?_ **

_ Anything. _

He wonders what time it is, considers that soon they'll need to get out, start getting ready for his appointment. Tyler knows they won't get ready quickly. They never do.

Josh knows this won't ever last long. It never does.

Nothing lasts.

But memories do; managing to shove these memories away for better, for worse, for better memories filled of Tyler.

A deep etching in his mind of the happiness and hope the other gives him.

"You'll do anything for me?"

Most would take advantage of someone as serious as Tyler in this very moment.

_ Oh, how it hurts. _

"I want you to do two things."

Hands rub against Tyler's chest, over those marks that were nearly abstract, symmetrical in size and a frenzy of color and hope.

He's only seen them a few times, a few glimpses. Nothing sexual ever happened to the two of them, nothing where skin was shown. Loving touches, holding one another, nothing more and it was satisfying.

Able to study, map out this beautiful painting on a beautiful canvas already splotched with color and vibrant motion.

Moving in love and devotion, Josh strokes the gentle lines and carefully moves like a ghost.

_ Careful. Loving. _

Josh cranes his neck back as Tyler cleans more. He rests his head on the bathroom tiled wall behind, eyes peering gently through eyelashes at Tyler.

A warm, syrupy feeling.

Lips slowly form words.

"I want you to kiss me a lot more. I love how you kiss." That's said with a soft giggly undertone, a smile plastered to his face. 

The smile fades, Josh dragging his fingertips along Tyler's throat, careful.

_ Squeaky clean. _

"I want you to stay alive for me."

His scars seem to buzz as Josh runs his fingers across them. It feels like they are ripping open again. Or maybe they are healing.  _ Which one does it feel like? _

_ Healing. It's healing. _

**_Get your head straight, Tyler. You know these._ **

Josh tells him to kiss him more and he smiles. He loves to kiss him. Sometimes he never wants to stop. Josh's lips feel like damp clouds on his. 

"I can do that."

Josh's fingers graze his throat and it is hard to think. Thoughts are blocked out by him reminding himself that this is Josh, this is gentle, this is love. 

There are scratches on his neck, too, but only he can see them- they are red, but not the same as the hand prints. He has not clawed of the skin, only left agitated red scratches that lasted about a day. Anxiety.

_ Has Josh ever seen him like that? _

_Stay alive_ , he says, and Tyler frowns. He almost killed himself last night.    
The word sorry nearly slips from his mouth and he stops it by kissing Josh softly, fulfilling his first request. He pulls back. "I'll try. I promise."


End file.
